


Q of the Opera (Picard/Q)

by Spocko_My_Man



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Phantom of the Opera Fusion, Multi, piqard, qcard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-10 21:46:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16462919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spocko_My_Man/pseuds/Spocko_My_Man
Summary: This is Phantom of the Opera but with Star Trek TNG characters. Picard is Christine, Q is Phantom, and Beverly is Raoul.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Many, many, many thanks for PrairieDawn who was my beta reader. Thank you so much for spellchecking and giving me improvement ideas!
> 
> I used the Andrew Lloyd Webber movie as the reference.

_“And who wants this beautiful monkey statue in Persian robes? We’re starting from the price of five- thank you sir. Ten, thank you, Ma’am… More offers? No? One, two, three, sold to the lady in the wheelchair. Here you go, Ma’am.”_  
_She took the monkey. Its glass eyes stared back at her. The tiny cymbals in the monkey’s hands were covered in patina, and its tail had fallen off. Still, it was a beautiful statue. The lady raised her glance when the auctioneer presented the next artifact. Her glance met familiar, black eyes in the crowd. Ma’am Troi?_  
_“Ladies and Gentlemen, you may have heard the legend of the mysterious Q of the Opera. This is the very chandelier of the Opera Enterprise. It has been restored and repaired and here you can see it in all its glory and shine…”  
_ _The chandelier was exposed from under the cloth it had been covered with. And as it rose to the ceiling, she was there again…_

_***_

_The air was full of anticipation. The rehearsals were underway, props and costumes were being made, busy people in various stages of clothing ran around carrying stuff, and everyone could feel the excitement in the air of the Opera Enterprise._

William Riker, the lead baritone of the Opera Enterprise, was rehearsing his part for the next opera. He was the crown jewel of the house; it was undeniable. He knew he was irreplaceable. The dancers gave their best to support his singing; the choir made him shine. The basso, a Klingon named Worf, was nothing compared to him, but Riker had to admit he was skilled to some extent. Riker was just about to open his mouth as the big doors in the opposite wall of the great hall opened. Two men, one with dark skin and one with extremely pale skin, and a woman with long red hair stepped in.  
  “Attention, everybody! We know you’re rehearsing, yes, but we have an announcement!” the darker man chanted. “The previous owner of Opera Enterprise, Mr. Hike, is leaving. We will be in charge from now on. You may know us from our various inventions, but we are interested in arts as well. Without further ado, I am Geordi LaForge, and this is my partner in business, Mr. Data.”  
Confused applause rose from the crew and cast. Data, the pale, yellow-eyed man next to LaForge, raised his hand to silence them.  
  “And this, ladies and gentlemen, is our new patron. May I present, Lady Beverly Crusher”, he spoke with a clear, audible voice. Beverly Crusher stepped forward and inclined her head. More applauds.

In the group of dancers, a nearly bald man couldn’t help but stare at the woman and smile, not quite believing his eyes.  
  “What’s it, Jean-Luc?” whispered a young male dancer next to him.  
  “It’s just… that’s Beverly. Beverly Crusher. I know her.”  
  “She’s my mother, I’ve never heard her speak about you. How do you know her?”  
  “We were together before my father died. It wasn’t serious, but we did have something between us.”  
  “Okay…” the boy smirked at Jean-Luc who smiled back.

  “Thank you, Mr Data. My family wishes to support your hard work”, Beverly Crusher said. “And, as you know, my son Wesley has been in your ballet group. He is a wonderful young man. A true talent, even if I say so myself.” Wesley nodded to her as a greeting.  
William Riker, in his full stage apparel, strode to the front of the stage. “I am William T. Riker. I have been the lead baritone of this house for five seasons.”  
  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr Riker”, Beverly said.  
LaForge gestured to Worf. “Ms. Crusher, this is Worf.”  
  “It is an honor to meet you”, Worf said and nodded to her. She nodded back, smiling.  
  “Well. I won’t bother you longer, ladies and gentlemen. I will watch your show tonight”, Beverly continued. “If you excuse me, I’ll leave now. I have a lot to do.” Still smiling, she left the room.

  “All right, everyone, back to your stations!” the conductor ordered. “And Mister Riker…”  
The orchestra continued to play.

  “She didn’t recognize you!” Wesley whispered to Jean-Luc.  
  “She just didn’t see me”, he said back. “Come. The show must go on.”

 Ma’am Troi, the ballet teacher, walked around the dance group with Misters LaForge and Data during the rehearsal.  
  “The ballet group is our pride and joy”, she inclined.  
  “I can see why”, LaForge agreed.  
  “Excuse me, Ma’am Troi, who is that man over there?”  
  “That is Jean-Luc Picard. A very promising dancer. Truly exceptional. He came here only a bit after I started as a ballet teacher.”  
One of the dancers bumped against Mr Data, who only swayed a bit from the impact.  
  “Gentlemen, if you could kindly stand aside…” Troi then guided them.  
The dancers moved like water.

Back in the front of the stage, Riker was preparing for the climax of the song. A backing singer stomped on his foot accidentally, and another one tripped on his cape, tearing it.  
  “Off my shoes! Ush!” he grunted, then returned his stage smile. Then he saw the new owners of the house, and they weren’t looking at him but at the dancers instead. The song ended, and Riker stormed to the men and Troi who stood in the side of the stage.  
  “Ms. Crusher will undoubtedly love this”, he heard Mr. LaForge say. Now he was infuriated. “Dare say one more thing…” he muttered under his breath.  
  “All right, all right, Misters. I bet she will be very fond of the ballet girls and boys, as fond as YOU are, but I am the star here! So, you can have as many dancers as you wish, but I am not going to sing tonight! Farewell!”  
He whisked around and began stomping away. Data and LaForge turned to Troi.  
  “Ma’am… What do we do now?”  
She shrugged. “Mr. Hike used to beg and pray. I have tried to negotiate with Mr. Riker, but even my empathic powers haven’t helped.”  
LaForge and Data glanced at each other, then nodded in unison, and hurried after Riker who was fussing around and giving orders to bring him this and that.  
  “Mister! Mister Riker, you are the master of singing, the true gold tongue, the, eh, the… God of singing!” LaForge tried.  
  “Is there not a long sequence in this performance that is suitable for a long solo?” Data asked the confused conductor.  
  “Yes, there is, but--”

  “It doesn’t matter!” Riker growled. “My costume is ruined, there’s no time to fix it, and this damn wig is itchy, and I hate it how everyone looks at the dancers instead of me!”  
  “Yes, yes, Mister Riker, of course…” LaForge turned to the conductor. “Would it be possible for you to give us a solo performance? I mean, if it’s okay to you, conductor, Mister…”  
  “O’Brien”, the conductor said, frowning. “But I - ”  
  “Okay”, Riker sighed. “All right. If my managers tell me to. Mr O’Brien?”  
  “If you say so…”  
  “I do. Silence!”

Data and LaForge went back to Troi.  
  “Ma’am, why exactly did Mr Hike leave?” Data asked.  
  “Health reasons”, she replied.  
  “I bet”, LaForge snapped.

Riker strode to the front of the stage again. O’Brien returned to his place. “Mister?”  
 “Music, Maestro”, Riker commanded. He took his pose, waiting for the music to start. The familiar notes swayed through the air, and he started singing…

No-one saw who it was, but someone loosened the ropes of a stage background right above Riker. It fell on him, burying him under fabric and raising a big cloud of dust in the air. Everyone yelled in fright and surprise.  
  “Lift it off! Get it off me!” Riker shouted and slammed the floor with his fists. People rushed to help him.

  “He’s here”, Wesley whispered to Jean-Luc, “Q of the Opera!”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picard is chosen as the new lead singer. Beverly sees him.

  “Mr Riker, are you okay? Mog! Damnit, what’s wrong up there?” O’Brien shouted.  
The Ferengi peeked from his post near the ceiling  
  “Don’t look at me!” he screamed. “Not my fault! I wasn’t on my post! There’s no-one in here except for me, or if there is, it must be Q…”  
The people under him gasped. Deanna Troi walked under the Ferengi’s post and saw something white and rectangular on the floor. It was an envelope with a red wax seal shaped like the letter Q.  
  
  “It must’ve been an accident, Mr Riker!” LaForge said, spreading his arms to the sides and raising his eyebrows.  
  “ACCIDENT?!” Riker roared. “There has been only accident after accident for three years! And you two aren’t any better than Mr Hike! Worf, let’s go!”  
The Klingon turned to LaForge and Data.  
  “You have no honor”, he grunted and left.  
  
  “Please, Mr O’Brien, tell me he is coming back”, LaForge pleaded from the conductor. The Irishman sighed and shook his head, then shrugged. “I don’t know. It might be possible.”  
  “Do you think so?” Deanna Troi asked from behind them. She had an envelope in her hand. “It’s from Q of the Opera.”  
  “Most curious”, Data said. “Do you actually believe in this Q?”  
  “He welcomes you to his opera”, Troi continued, ignoring Data, “and tells you to reserve box five for him, like before.”  
  “So this… ghost or whatever is telling us that we are welcome in HIS opera? What is this?” LaForge asked angrily.  
  “And about his salary-”  
Data and LaForge’s eyebrows rose. “Salary?” they asked in unison, Data unemotionally, LaForge not believing his ears.  
  “Yes. Mr Hike used to give Q two grand a month.”  
Data looked pensive. “With the help from Ms. Crusher, I believe we will be able to pay him more generously, even.”  
  “God damnit, Data, I am not paying some Q anything! Uh… well, okay then. I’ll announce that when Ms. Crusher comes back. But”, LaForge shouted and tore the letter in pieces, “we will probably have to cancel the whole gala as our lead singer just left!”  
  “Surely there is an understudy to sing instead of Mr. Riker”, Data suggested. O’Brien was infuriated.  
  “There is no understudy for Mr. Riker! None!”  
Geordi was pulling his hair and shaking.  
  “And we had a full house! We sold all tickets!”  
Deanna Troi raised her voice.  
  “Don’t be so hopeless. Jean-Luc Picard could sing it, Sir.”

Jean-Luc was chatting with other dancers a few metres away, when he heard his name. He stopped mid-sentence and turned around, curious.  
  “A dancer? Most unusual”, Data said, frowning.  
  “Yes, but he has learnt from the master.”  
  “Who?”  
  "I don’t know his name, Sir”, Jean-Luc said, shrugging apologetically.  
  “Let him sing for you, Sir.” Troi put her hand on Jean-Luc’s shoulder. “He has been well-taught, like I said. Let him sing and show how good he is.”  
LaForge and Data looked at each other, then nodded in agreement, yet reluctantly.  
  “The stage is yours, Picard.”  
O’Brien resumed his place. “From the beginning of the aria, please, maestro.”  
LaForge muttered something along the lines “this is not going to save us”, while Data measured Picard from head to toe with his gaze.  
The music began. And Jean-Luc started to sing. His voice… it had much more soul than Riker’s voice could ever have.  
**  
The seats were full. Jean-Luc’s voice filled the whole hall, he sparkled in the spotlights. Everyone was in awe.  
Even Misters Data and LaForge were pleased. Well, Data, as an android, would feel no pleasure, but Geordi’s grumpy expression had molten away, revealing a genuine smile.  
  
_Under the stage, in the sewers, a dark figure heard the echoes of Jean-Luc’s voice and turned to look up._  
  
Beverly Crusher sat in one of the boxes. Suddenly, she recognized the man on the stage.  
  “Can it be… Jean-Luc?” she thought to herself. She was certain of it. She stood up and clapped. “Bravo!” Then she hurried down from the box and to the big marble hall.  
  “He might not remember me, but I certainly do remember him”, she thought. The only one who saw her when she left the box was Deanna Troi.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wesley looks for Picard. Q appears.

The show ended. People threw flowers on the stage. Jean-Luc bowed, bowed again, the applause was immense. Jean-Luc was beaming.  
  
A lady from the audience hurried outside to a carriage that was waiting in front of Opera Enterprise. She peeked her head from the door and told Mr. Riker how good the show had been. Riker clenched his teeth and fists and grunted.  
  
The backstage of the Opera Enterprise was crammed full of people shaking hands, puffing cigars and prattling. Wesley pushed his way through the crowd, apologizing for every little bump he accidentally caused.  
  “Come on, Jean-Luc, where are you?” he sighed under his breath. He walked past a drunk couple who were hugging each other against a wall. He proceeded to a small chapel under Opera Enterprise, and there Jean-Luc was, praying on his knees for his dead father.  
Jean-Luc heard his voice from somewhere inside his mind telling him that the show was brilliant.  
  “Jean-Luc, Jean-Luc, here you are”, Wesley chanted as he leapt down the stone stairs. “Why are you hiding in here? You should be in the party. You were fantastic! Please tell me, who is your teacher?”  
  “Wes… When I came here for the first time, the Opera I mean, when I lit the first candle for my father, I heard a voice from above me. And he was always with me in my dreams. See, before my father died, he told me there’s an angel for everyone. An angel of music.”  
  “Do you really think your father’s spirit talks to you?” Wesley frowned as he sat on the floor.  
  “Who else, Wes, who?”  
Wesley looked thoughtful.  
  “I don’t know.”  
  “I used to wish I could see my father again. Now he’s here with me, calling me softly, and I know he’s always with me.”  
  “Jean-Luc, you know it isn’t true. You must’ve dreamt. You’re usually so down-to-earth.” Wesley stood up and took Jean-Luc’s hand. “C’mon, they’re waiting for you to show up. They want to drown you in flowers.”  
They walked up the stairs.  
  “I didn’t dream it, Wes. He is real. The angel of music is real.”  
  “I wish I could see him, then.”  
  “So do I.”  
They stopped behind the curtains.  
  “Wesley… he’s here. He’s all around me.”  
  “Your hand is very cold and you’re pale. Are you sick?”  
  “I’m scared.”  
  “Why? There’s nothing to fear. Come on, they’re waiting.”  
They left the stage and went to the crowd.  
Above them was Ferengi Mog, drinking Romulan Ale in his station. He sneered.

Later on, Jean-Luc and Ma’am Troi went to his dressing room that was now full of flowers. Troi pushed the doors shut, telling the people on the other side that the star needed rest. Then she turned to Picard.  
  “You don’t need to be so scared. I am proud of you, Jean-Luc. He’s pleased with you as well; Q of the Opera”, she said and picked up a blood-red rose with a black ribbon tied around it. Then she left. Jean-Luc was now alone, looking at the rose in confusion.  
Data and LaForge saw Beverly in the hall.  
  “Ah, Ms. Crusher. Mr. Picard is a true find.”  
  “May we present him to you?”  
Beverly smiled.  
  “Gentlemen, if you don’t mind, I would rather meet him alone. Thank you.”  
She turned around and left the two men.  
  “Hmm, p’raps they’ve met before”, Geordi said.  
  “That would seem very likely.”

Beverly entered Picard’s room.  
  “Jean-Luc let his mind wander…”  
He turned his head to see Beverly. He grinned.  
  “Beverly! Those picnics in the attic…”  
  “Or chocolate?”  
  “Father played the violin.”  
  “And we read each other dark stories from the North.”  
  “And the angel of music…”  
  “…sings songs in your head, Jean-Luc. You sang so well tonight.”  
They hugged.  
  “Bev, I remember my father saying how he’d send an angel to me from heaven. He’s dead, Bev, and the angel of music is here with me.”  
  “Oh, no doubt. But now, supper-”  
  “No, the angel of music is very strict.”  
  “I won’t keep you up for long”, she said.  
  “Beverly, no.”  
  “Change your clothes, Jean-Luc. I’ll order a carriage. Hurry, Luc.”  
  “No, wait!”  
But she was out of the door. And someone else’s gloved hand turned the key in the lock, then took the lock away. He didn’t notice Deanna Troi who was behind the corner…

Jean-Luc had changed his clothes from the show costume to formal, when all the candles in his room were put off by a whirlwind. The lights went off all over the Opera Enterprise as well. Jean-Luc heard a mocking voice coming from the ceiling.  
  “Insolent woman, a slave of fashion. She bathes in your glory, how disgusting! Tsk. Merely an ignorant fool. I despise her.”  
Jean-Luc turned away from the door he was trying to open and looked up.  
  “Angel of music, please tell me what you mean. I am listening. Please stay by my side, guide me, I am lost. And show yourself.”  
  “Ha ha ha! Your words are flattering… You shall know me. Look in the mirror, I am there.”  
  “Guide me. Show me your glory, fear no longer!” Jean-Luc pleaded, then looked in the mirror. Mist whirled around his image, then it cleared and showed a tall man with a white mask on his face. He was wearing a black tuxedo, his hair was short, dark and wild. He outstretched his hand toward Jean-Luc.  
  “I am your angel of music. Come to me.”


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q takes Jean-Luc with him.

Beverly had come back to the door and was trying to open it. She heard a strange voice from inside the room.  
  “Jean-Luc, who is that? What is that voice?”  
The image in the mirror continued to lure Jean-Luc.  
  “I am your angel of music. Come to me.”

  “Jean-Luc!” Beverly tried.

Jean-Luc took the angel’s hand. The man led him through corridors he had never seen before. His gloved hand was bigger than Jean-Luc’s, the man was almost a head taller as well, and his dark brown eyes had a menacingly playful gaze. Jean-Luc couldn’t take his eyes off him.  
  “You are Q of the Opera.”  
  “I am.” Q took a torch from the wall as they went down spiral stairs. They went to catacombs Picard had never heard of, and he sat on a small rowing boat as Q steered their way through the sewers. A cross gate opened in front of them as they entered a large cave. Chandeliers rose from the grey water as Q snapped his fingers. Dozens of chandeliers with lit candles in them.  
Q steered the boat to the shore and jumped off. Jean-Luc stayed on the boat, bedazzled by what he had seen. Q threw his cape on the floor beside picturesque furniture, human bones and more lit candles.  
  “I have guided you to the throne of music, mon chéri, to the kingdom where music is everything. You are here for one single purpose… I wanted you from the moment you started to sing. You were the one to sing my music, Jean-Luc. You are my muse, my senses are sharp now because of you, and I need you.”  
Picard stared at the being, baffled. This was his angel of music, his secret teacher. His teacher praised him. His angel wanted him.  
Q strode to the boat where Jean-Luc sat and offered his hand. Jean-Luc took it and stood up. Q looked him in the eye and smirked mischievously.  
  “You are beautiful.”  
He helped Picard step off the boat, then put his hand under Picard’s chin and raised his head gently.  
  “You will be here with me. We will create beauty.”  
Jean-Luc saw a miniature of the stage he had performed on. There was a miniature of him in his stage clothes, the chandelier, the curtains, everything was there.  
  “Listen to the music of the night, Jean-Luc. Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest desires. Forget everything of the life you led before. Close your eyes. Let your soul fly.”  
Jean-Luc closed his eyes. Q’s voice echoed around him.  
  “Quietly, slowly, the music will caress you, hear, feel, and it will seduce you. The darkness around you is invincible. That darkness is me, Jean-Luc. I will take you to places you have never known about.”  
Jean-Luc opened his eyes as he felt Q’s lips on his, soft yet demanding. Q’s hands were on him. They made their way from his shoulders to his hips. Then Q was behind him, whispering into his ear: “Trust me, enter the world of sensations.” Jean-Luc turned around, still speechless from the feeling. Q’s touch felt like fire. It burned him up inside and made him dizzy. He needed to feel those lips on his again. Instead, Q took his hand and led him to the other side of the cave and in front of red velvet curtains with golden brim. Q moved the curtains aside to reveal a mirror. Picard looked in it and saw himself in a bridal dress. Suddenly the dizziness grew so strong his knees no longer supported him, and everything around him began to spin wildly.  
Q caught his limp body before he hit the ground, then hoisted him onto his arms and carried him to a bed.  
  “Only you can make my songs live, mon chéri… Let me create music of the night.”  
He caressed Picard’s chin once more, then left him on the bed and pulled the curtain down.  
  
Back in the theatre, Wesley entered Jean-Luc’s room.  
  “Jean-Luc? Are you here?”  
The room was dark. Wesley could barely see in front of him. He saw, however, a faint glint of light in the frame of the mirror and decided to investigate. He put his fingers between the two wooden panels of the frame and pushed to the side. The mirror slid open and revealed a long corridor with candles on the walls. The mirror was one-way glass. Wesley proceeded down the corridor and yelped as he stepped on a rat, then jumped as a hand fell on his shoulder. he turned around and was met with Deanna Troi who grabbed his wrist and pulled him back toward the room. “You are not allowed to come here, Wesley”, Troi said.  
  
  “Grrr!” Mog growled and caused both amused and scared giggles out of the dance girls around him.  
  “Q… His skin is like parchment, his laugh is like the howling wind! And he has no nose, only a black hole, and his both eyes are glass.” He pointed at the girls. “So, beware, or he’ll catch you with his magical lasso!”  
He threw a loop of rope around one girl’s neck and pulled her closer, pretending to kiss the giggling dancer’s neck. He was stopped by Ma’am Troi who loosened the rope and pushed her away.  
  “Watch your mouth, Ferengi, or you’ll learn to shut up when it’s too late.” She slapped Mog’s cheek.  
  
Jean-Luc woke up on the massive bed.  
"What was the mist above the water? I remember candles and a boat as well", he thought as he walked out of the chamber and saw the familiar scenery. And there was some man in the boat.  
He looked around and saw the dark figure sitting behind a piano with a bunch of piano sheets in front of him.  
"Behind your mask… Who are you?" he thought. He walked to him, stopped next to him and put his hand on Q’s cheek. The other man closed his eyes.  
  “Who are you, Q?” Jean-Luc whispered and pulled the mask off gently. The other side of Q’s face was as smooth as the other side.  
  “I’m Q. It’s as simple as that. It’s the same forward and backward. Oh, and it’s short for Q.”  
Q’s expression was rather bored.  
  “Did you really think I’d have a third eye or something?”  
Jean-Luc was speechless.  
  “Then- then why the mask?” he finally managed to ask.  
The taller man shrugged.  
  “I’m dramatic.”  
Then he laughed. “All right. Let’s go back. I bet they miss you.”


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picard returns. The new opera is a fiasco.

_Ma’am Troi saw the lady in a car. The lady nodded at her. She nodded back. The car drove away. The lady saw Troi in the review mirror._  
  
**  
  
_The gala night preparations were underway. Cleaners were washing the marble hall floor._

Mr. Data hurried inside the Opera Enterprise and left his coat to the porter, then proceeded to LaForge who was waiting for him on the marble stairs.  
  “The newspapers are frantic. Everyone wants to know what happened to the lead baritones. First Mr. Riker, now Mr. Picard”, Data told him as they walked up the stairs.  
  “At least the tickets sell. The mystery is a good lure”, LaForge noted. “Even though the stage is empty, the crowd is pleased. Opera, pff! It’s scandal that people want.”  
  “Are you not concerned of the way these things have happened, Geordi?”  
  “It’s useless to worry, Data. This is good for our business. All for publicity!”  
  “Is it not affecting our business in a negative way?”  
  “Data, they are tearing the tickets from us with force!”  
Data looked thoughtful. “Affirmative. I saw two men fighting over a concert ticket on the street on my way here. But I must show you something.” He pulled a white envelope with a red Q seal from his pocket.  
  “Don’t tell me it’s from Q.”  
  “It is.” Data opened the envelope, citing: “Dear Mr. Data, the night was charming. Jean-Luc was brilliant. I do not miss Riker, he was useless and his time in the spotlights was over. And dear LaForge, a friendly reminder: I did not receive my salary. Please send it to Yours Truly, O.Q. It is unpleasant to have debts, so obey.”  
  “Who would have the gall to send this?” LaForge exclaimed. “They must be one damn of a childish person, at least!”  
  “The signature is O.Q”, Data reminded.  
  “And who the hell could that be, Data? No, wait, Opera Q! This is obscene!”  
  “It is, indeed, unlikely that the sender is Q of the Opera.”

  
Fast steps echoed to their ears.  
  “Where is he?” Beverly asked.  
  “Do you mean Riker, Ms?”  
  “No! Mr. Picard! Where is he?”  
  “We do not know, how could we?”  
  “Did you two send this note?” she asked angrily, leaping up the stairs and waving another white envelope in her hand.  
  “What? No, we didn’t.”  
  “So you’re saying he’s not here?”  
  “Affirmative. He is not in here.”  
  “Don’t argue with me, gentlemen, I know you wrote this.”  
  “What is it?” LaForge insisted. Data took the envelope and opened it.  
  “Fear not, Mr. Picard is under the wing of the angel of the music. Make no attempt to see him again”, he read.  
  “Who wrote this if not you two?”

  
Suddenly Will Riker burst through the door with Mr. Worf and the rest of his crew.  
  “Where is she?” he demanded.  
  “You’re back! Oh, who?” LaForge shouted.  
  “Your patron! I got a resenting letter from her!” he pointed at Beverly.  
  “I did not write it!” she yelled.  
  “So you didn’t send this?”  
  “I didn’t send what?” she asked and snatched the letter. “Your days at the Opera Enterprise are history. An accident will happen should you try to take Mr. Picard’s place.”  
Riker was clenching his fists. Worf clenched his jaws. Data and Geordi looked at each other.  
  “Too many letters.”  
  “And all of them are about Jean-Luc.”  
  “Mr. Picard has returned!” Wesley declared from the lower end of the stairs.  
  “He’s in his room, resting”, Troi said.  
Beverly hurried down the stairs. “May I see him?”  
  “No, Ms, he wants to see no-one. I feel he is very confused. Something has happened.”  
Riker and Worf frowned. “Will he sing?”  
Deanna showed a familiar envelope. “Here, I have a note.”  
  “Let me see”, everyone said in unison. LaForge took it.  
  “Gentlemen, I have sent you friendly advice on how my theatre is to be run. You have not taken my advice and I am disappointed, but…

Back in the catacombs, Q was writing the letter and rearranging the stage miniature.  
  “…I will give you one last chance. Jean-Luc Picard has returned to you and I am willing to help him achieve great success in his career. So, for the new opera, you will choose Mr. Riker for the mute role, and Mr. Picard will play the leading role for it demands a charming figure. I shall watch the performance from box five. Should my advice not be taken seriously, you will be in great danger. Yours Truly, O.Q.”  
  
Riker yelled.  
  “Picard, Picard, always Picard! This is clearly a conspiracy created by his lover, Ms. Crusher!”  
  “Unbelievable behavior…” Beverly muttered.  
  “Sir!” LaForge tried.  
  “This changes nothing, LaForge! I am leaving!”  
  “Again?”  
  “Why don’t you let him leave? He’s such a nuisance”, Beverly said to LaForge as Riker turned away and prepared to leave the building dramatically.  
  “Indeed...” Geordi admitted.  
  “The angel sees and knows. I feel his presence.”, Troi said but no-one listened to her.  
  “You don’t care about my performance”, Riker pouted from the door. “We’ll see what you say when the newspapers are full of things only I could have told them.”  
  “What?!” Geordi exclaimed when he heard Riker’s words. “You can’t do that!”  
  “Why not? I’ve been here for years. I know everyone’s secrets.” He smiled coldly.  
Data frowned. “It is indeed so. He probably does have plenty of information about the people in the Opera Enterprise.”  
  “And scandal sells… Ah, uh, we are begging, Mr. Riker”, LaForge pleaded.  
  “You aren’t doing it well enough. Where is Picard?”  
  “Sir, please sing, it’s useless to sulk!”  
  “Your public needs you, Sir”, Data said.  
  “And so do we”, LaForge added.  
  “What about your dear Picard?!”  
  “No, Sir! No! We want you.”  
  
And thus, Riker began rehearsing for his next big role. Data and Geordi made sure he was comfortable and pleased with his dressing room and everything else. Riker, however, was not too pleased with the dozens of gifts he was given.

Beverly wandered in the basement, looking for the angel Jean-Luc had talked about.  
  
Troi was concerned about Q’s revenge.  
  
  
So came the big night of the new opera. A gloved hand slipped something into Riker’s water. The only one who saw that was Ferengi Mog.  
Jean-Luc played a silent servant role, despite Q’s orders.  
And above the stage, Mog was trying to find the malevolent prankster. He did not notice how a tall man sneaked behind him and to the terrace near the ceiling.  
  “Did I not instruct”, Q’s voice roared from high above the audience, “that box five is to be kept empty?”  
The people on the stage were taken aback.  
  “Q of the Opera is here”, Wesley whispered.  
  “It’s him”, Jean-Luc muttered.  
  “Your role is silent, you targ”, Riker hissed.  
  “A targ?” Q’s mocking voice echoed in the hall. “Perhaps you are the targ yourself.”  
Riker rolled his eyes as he went to the side of the stage and sipped water.  
  “Excuse me. Now, Maestro, please.”  
The music continued. And mid-sentence, Riker’s voice turned into a terrible oink. The audience laughed.  
Ferengi Mog continued his pursuit after Q.  
Riker’s voice kept croaking and oinking. The dancers told the crew to lower the curtain, and the curtain swung down, leaving one of the dancers in front of it. He tried to find his way to the other side of the curtain without success. The audience laughed more. Data and LaForge ran to the stage.  
  “Ladies and gentlemen, we apologize. The performance will continue in ten minutes’ time”, Data announced.  
  “Also, we’ll switch Mr. Picard to the main role for Mr. Riker had problems with his voice.” LaForge pulled Picard to the stage. Picard was very confused. The audience applauded.  
Beverly was in one of the boxes. She shook her head in disbelief.  
Back on the stage, LaForge was sweating heavily. “Meanwhile… um… we’ll perform the ballet sequence from the third act of our opera.”  
  “What?!” O’Brien cursed.  
  “Maestro, the ballet sequence, please.”  
  “B-b… the ballet!”  
The orchestra began to flip pages of the music sheets, the violinists whispered confused sentences to each other, and finally, the one last dancer found his way to the other side of the curtain. Audience laughed.  
  “You’re fired”, O’Brien mouthed to him.  
The curtain was pulled away.

Picard was changing his clothes, guided by Troi.

Ferengi Mog was still looking for Q above the stage.

The ballet dancers did their best to keep the audience on their seats.

Picard found another rose with a black ribbon from his table.

Mog was faced with Q, who appeared everywhere in front of him, no matter where the Ferengi went. It all happened very quickly. The Ferengi tried to catch Q and leapt a bit too far. He missed the masked man and fell. People in the audience and on stage screamed. Mog’s limp body lay on the floor.  
Data and Geordi stood up.  
  “Ladies and gentlemen, stay on your seats, please. There has been an accident”, Data raised his voice above all the shrieking. His voice was, of course, as calm as always.  
  
Picard met Beverly behind the stage.  
  “Come, Bev, we must go. We aren’t safe here.”  
  “Why did you bring me here?” she asked when they ran up spiral stairs. “Let’s go back.”  
  “No, Beverly, he will kill you! He will find us! His eyes burn us.”  
  “Jean-Luc, that is a tale!”  
  “Q is not a tale, Beverly”, Jean-Luc yelled as they hurried up yet other stairs and through the masking section. Higher, higher they went, all the way to the roof. It was snowing.  
  “Jean-Luc, it is only a tale!”  
  “I have seen him, Beverly. He is not a tale. His eyes, they… they are the night where there is no daylight. He is the darkness. I saw him! Could I ever forget that sight? I saw him.”  
Jean-Luc brought the rose to his chest. He had taken it with him.  
  “But his voice filled my mind with strange music. That music made my soul fly.”  
  “It was only a dream.”  
  “I saw so much sorrow in his eyes. And in his gaze, there was both love and danger…”  
Picard strode around on the roof. He was starting to get cold in the snow.  
  “Jean-Luc.” Beverly went to him and put her hand on his shoulder. Picard sighed.

Q was hiding behind a statue. Heartbroken because of Jean-Luc’s other love affair, he grit his teeth.  
  “Jean-Luc. I will stay beside you. I will guard you every day. I will love you every day.”  
Q peeked from behind the statue, unnoticeable to the two human beings in front of him.  
  “Perhaps this all is true”, Jean-Luc whispered as Beverly put her head against his chest.  
  “I will be your light, Jean-Luc. I will keep you from harm and away from any ghost or Q or whatever.”  
Q felt a sting of jealousy in his chest. Picard was HIS, not some woman’s. It was HIS right to kiss the man, to run his hands on his body, to feel him…  
Picard and Beverly hugged each other.  
  “Will you marry me, Beverly?”  
  “Yes, Jean-Luc, I will. I will!”  
They kissed.  
Q would’ve wanted to make Beverly vanish. How did that damned woman DARE do that! Q muttered silently behind the statue. His muse was someone other’s now.  
  “I must go now, Beverly”, Picard whispered as their lips parted. “They’re wondering where I am.”  
They both turned around and went back inside the Opera house.  
Q crept from behind the statue and picked the rose from the light snow that had just fallen. He held it against his chest.  
  “I gave you my music. I made your songs alive. Is this how you thank me, Picard? Denying me? Did you really trade me for that woman? When she heard you sing…”  
He sneered bitterly.  
  “I wish you’d share your love with me.”  
He crushed the rose in his hand, stood up and ran to the edge of the roof.  
  “You will curse the day you denied me!” he shouted into the night.  
  
**  
  
_The lady saw a young couple kissing in front of the Swarovski crystal shop._


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Masquerade. Q is not pleased.

_Fireworks, costumes, masquerades. Photographs were taken. It was the glorious night of masquerade. The Opera Enterprise was full of people in costumes of black, white, and gold, wearing all kinds of masks on their faces. Masks of paper and cardboard with jewels, feathers, lace and patterns from your wildest dreams, they were all there._

LaForge and Data made their way to the Opera Enterprise in a crowd. Geordi was wearing papier mache ram horns on his head, Data had a hat the shape of a rooster head.  
  “You know what, Data? This is going to be a hell of a glorious night.”  
  “Saying ‘hell’ and ‘glorious’ in the same sentence doesn’t sound very reassuring.”  
  “It’s a saying, Data.”  
  “Ah. Is it like saying ‘this night is going to be nice as f-’”  
  “Uhh… yeah. Now, let’s go. We don’t want them to start the big stuff without us.”  
Geordi grabbed Data’s hand and quickened his pace. Data raised his eyebrows and followed him.  
They entered the building at the same time with Worf and Riker.  
  “It’s great to know that Q is gone!” Riker rejoiced when he saw LaForge and Data.  
  “Indeed! Three months without that nuisance! Can you believe?”  
  “I don’t want to see him again. He has no honor”, Worf muttered.

  
Picard and Beverly were on their way to the marble hall.  
  “A secret engaging…” Jean-Luc whispered and looked at his and Beverly’s hands where the engagement rings shone.  
  “Why in secret?” Beverly asked. “We’ve nothing to hide.” She leaned in for a kiss, but Jean-Luc pulled away.  
  “No, Beverly. Not here, they’ll see us.”  
  “What does that matter, Jean-luc? It’s an engagement, not a crime. What are you afraid of?”  
  “Let’s not argue.”  
  “Okay.”  
They joined the others on the dance floor, smiling and spinning round and round.  
  
  “Geordi, how do I act natural?” Data asked his friend.  
  “Damn, Data… Didn’t you take any lessons?”  
  “…No, I did not.”  
  “I think you’d better dance with me, then. I’ll show you. C’mere.”  
LaForge took Data’s hand, then put his other hand on Data’s waist.  
  “Follow my lead. Now, be sure you don’t stomp my feet. And remember to look like you’re having fun.”  
Data’s expression turned into a plastic grin.  
  “No, no… Not like that, Data…”  
  
Jean-Luc and Beverly danced slower. Their lips met. And at the very moment, in the middle of the confetti rain, all the lights went off, and a bright flash and boom on the stairs made everyone turn their heads.  
Q of the Opera was back, this time in the costume of the devil. His laugh echoed in the room.  
  “Why so silent?” he sneered as he started walking down the stairs slowly, gracefully, knowing he was above everyone else in every way. He owned the place, it was now clear.  
  “You fools thought I had left forever. Perhaps you missed me?”  
People glanced at each other and muttered.  
  “But!” Q’s voice snapped in the air like a whip, silencing every mouth.  
  “I have written you an opera. Here is the score!”  
A file appeared in his hand. He threw it on the floor, then drew his sword.  
  “My thanks for the chef. And, just before I go, take my advice.”

Beverly frowned and stormed away from the room.

Q advanced Riker, his sword pointed at the man’s throat.  
  “You should learn to act, and most importantly, sing, my dear Riker. Now you simply trot back and forth on the stage. Tsk, tsk, that’s not what I’d expect a ‘world-class’ baritone to do.” He tickled Riker’s neck with the very tip of the sword. Worf grumbled and stepped forward. Q flicked the sword toward the Klingon.  
  “And you, Microbrain, should bathe some time. Your smell makes everyone run away from the Opera Enterprise.”  
  “Klingon warriors don’t bathe!” Worf shouted. Q snorted.  
  “Whatever!”  
His voice cut the air like a knife again. He withdrew his sword, then strode to face Data and Geordi, who had frozen to the dance pose. Q raised his sword.  
  “Managers, my dear managers. Your place is in the office, not in art!”  
LaForge stared at the being with his mouth slightly open, while Data was as calm as usual.  
  “Et… votre ‘star’, Monsieur Jean-Luc Picard…”  
Q glared at Picard, who stood alone in his gold-embroidered white suit and looked back.  
  “He’s doing his best and has a magnnnnificent voice. But if he wants to become better...”  
The being pirouetted closer to Picard.  
  “…he needs to swallow his pride and return to me. Vrai oú faux, mon chéri? I’m your teacher, after all.”  
Picard felt everyone’s eyes on himself, especially Q’s hungry, jealous stare. He turned around to face Q. Q took his hand and drew it closer. Then he pulled the engagement ring off his finger.  
  “You belong to me, Jean-Luc”, he crooned.  
  
Beverly ran back to the marble hall with a sword in her hand. Q saw her, ran up the stairs and vanished with a puff of fire and smoke. Beverly ran after him, then fell into a mirror pit. She saw her own reflections in every direction, then Q’s.  
  “I’m right here”, he chanted and appeared from behind one mirror. Beverly hit him with her sword. The mirror shattered. It was a game of hide and seek, but a macabre one. Q’s mocking laugh echoed in the seemingly vast pit as he kept on appearing and disappearing like a clown in a circus. Eventually, Beverly started to feel dizzy and fooled. All of a sudden, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned around, ready to cut Q with the sword, but it was Troi. She led her away from the maze of mirrors.

  
  “No, Ms, I don’t know more than anyone else here”, Troi said when she was leading Beverly back to the marble hall with an oil lamp in her hand.  
  “Nonsense! You must know more!”  
  “Please don’t ask me. There’ve been too many accidents. And calm down.”  
Beverly grabbed her arm as they reached yet another doorway in the dark corridor full of spiderwebs.  
  “I beg you. For the sake of us all.”  
Troi sighed and went through the door.  
  “All right.”  
  
They went to Troi’s room. Deanna turned on the lights, then went to a drawer with many photos on it.  
  “Ten years ago, a strange man appeared into town. He claimed he was from some continuum. He was frowned upon, everyone thought he was crazy. I was studying to be a ballerina. I lived in the dormitories in here. Every time I went outdoors, I saw the same man in the same street corner. He was performing easy illusions for a living every single day. He was often spit upon, punched, kicked, and humiliated, but he kept on coming back to his spot. The same people who kept on abusing him finally got to his nerves and one day, he killed them. The police came. And I… I hid him here. I don’t know why I helped him… I felt he spoke the truth. He wasn’t crazy. He has never had anything but this opera house after that. It was his playground, now it’s his canvas. He’s a genius, a composer and a magician.”  
Beverly’s eyebrows rose.  
  “Ma’am, he’s not a genius anymore. He’s a madman.”  
Troi sighed.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean-Luc goes to the cemetery. Beverly tries to plot against Q.

_The car drove on. The lady saw a deer running on the fields._

_**_  
Jean-Luc got up from his bed. He had lain there, unable to sleep. He opened the door of his dorm, slipped a blanket over his shoulders and crept past Beverly who was sleeping on a chair, down the spiral stairs and to the yard. There he met the carriage driver.  
  “Where, Sir?”  
  “To the cemetery.” Jean-Luc handed him a coin purse. Then he hurried back inside and took a coat. On a table next to it was a vase full of blood-red roses.  
The driver didn’t know what hit him, but he blacked out. A figure clothed in similar clothes took his place on the driver’s seat.  
Jean-Luc came back to the yard and climbed to the passenger’s seat.  
  “To my father’s grave, please.” He leaned back. The horses started trotting.  
Beverly had woken up. She saw Jean-Luc was gone and ran to the window. She saw the carriage leaving the yard. “Where are they headed?” she demanded the groggy driver as she leapt outside the door.  
  “To the churchyard”, he muttered. Beverly ran to the nearest horse and jumped on its back, not wasting time with saddling or anything else, and started her pursuit.  
Jean-Luc opened the gates of the frosty, snowy cemetery. Two rows of statues greeted him on each side of the path. He walked the familiar path to his father’s grave, muttering the words his father had said to him before his death.  
  “How I wish I could meet you again, father”, he thought as he knelt in front of the grave. Q’s voice mocked him inside his mind.  
  “Lost child, are you in need of a guide in your solitude?”  
  “Angel?”  
  “Did you forget your angel? You do want me, Jean-Luc. You want to come with me.” The doors of the chapel grave opened, and the candle inside it was lit. It spread warm, welcoming light around it in the blue, dim winter morning.  
  “Yes…” Picard whispered and stood up, ready to enter the chapel. Q’s voice lured him closer, promising him wonders.

  
Beverly rode to the cemetery.  
  “Jean-Luc! Don’t believe him!”  
Picard whisked around, his eyes wide.  
  “Beverly?”  
Beverly jumped off the horse and ran to him.  
  “That… Whatever you believe, that thing isn’t your father, Jean-Luc! It’s some malevolent prankster!”  
The next thing they knew was that Q jumped down from the roof of the chapel and straight onto Beverly’s back, making her fall on the snowy pavement. Beverly yelled and bared her sword, but Q was faster. He leaped away and bared his own sword, then sneered as Beverly slipped on the frozen surface while trying to get up. Q was almost caught off guard by Beverly, who poked her sword toward the man. They started fencing. Picard stood there, frowning.  
  “Stop it! Both of you!” he shouted, but without any effect. Q and Beverly continued their wild fight. Q spun himself behind a large tree trunk, then slipped, and the next thing he saw was Beverly’s sword right above his chest. He grinned mockingly at Beverly, challenging her to do it.  
  “Beverly!” Picard shouted angrily. “Don’t do it! Don’t end it this way.”  
Beverly hesitated, then drew her sword back and twirled around, grabbing Picard’s arm and telling him to get on the horse’s back. They rode away.  
Q got up and laughed.  
  “So, Jean-Luc, you love me after all, don’t you?” he mocked. “You make me want you more and more.”  
  
Back in the Opera Enterprise, Beverly was making a plan to catch Q with LaForge and Data.  
  “We must catch him. He has been enough of a nuisance”, Beverly stated.  
  “I agree”, LaForge said.  
  “What is it you are suggesting, Ms?” Data inquired.  
  “When Mr. Picard sings, he will appear.”  
  “We’ll lock the doors!”  
  “And we shall call the police forces.”  
  “They’re certainly armed. The curtain will fall for Q, this time forever”, Beverly said.  
  
In the attic, Q loosened the ropes of the chandelier.  
  
Jean-Luc was in the chapel under the Opera Enterprise. He was full of remorse. Beverly entered the room. He looked up at her.  
  “I don’t want to do this, Beverly. I don’t want to hurt him. But he’ll take me with him… and then we can’t see each other. That of which I sometime dreamt, I am now afraid.”  
He stood up and walked to the altar.  
  “You said he was only a human, Jean-Luc. But if he lives, he’ll bully us until we die.”  
  “I can’t betray the man who gave me my voice. And killing him… it would… it would haunt me for the rest of my life. It would haunt we worse than Q himself. So, should I volunteer as his prey and face all the terrors he has planned for me?”  
  “I would help you if I could, Jean-Luc. But it’s all up to you.”  
She leaned closer and drew him in a hug.  
  
**  
  
The show started. Riker was, of course, the lead singer. Worf was the second lead.  
LaForge, Data, and Beverly all looked around. The police forces were present, like planned.  
Jean-Luc stepped on the stage and started singing his part, sorrowful of his betrayal. He knew Q would appear at the very moment. He glanced at Beverly, who sat alone in her box.  
And then, a familiar voice joined Picard on the stage. Q had appeared, bringing his vicious charm with him, twining it around Picard, who sat down on the edge of a large ‘bonfire’ and handled a red rose.  
  “You have come here, pursuing desires you have silenced… I have brought you here to fuse our passions, you have surrendered to me already, like you desired”, he sang as he strode around Picard slowly.  
  “Now you are here with me with no remorse. You decided, decided… No return. Forget your past.”  
He circled Picard, coming closer and closer, then latching onto him, grabbing his neck gently, embracing him from behind. Picard groaned as Q’s other hand squeezed his thigh.  
  “Our deepest desires revealed, our hearts aflame, we turn and twist in the night, and the flames will devour us…” Q drew his hand from Picard’s cheek to his shoulder. “Past the point of no return.”  
The audience held its breath. The policemen stood on both sides of the stage.  
Q was a few feet away from Picard now.  
  “May we plunge into the secrets of love?”  
Picard shrugged theatrically.  
  “I have come to you, ready to accept, for I have no remorse. I have decided to go… past the point of no return.”  
They started climbing up the spiral stairs to the higher plane of the stage for the climax of the song. Q threw his cape over his shoulder. He took Picard in his arms. Their voices rang in unison, Q’s hand caressed Picard’s chest, his lips were against the man’s neck, and Picard was clearly enjoying it.  
Realization hit Beverly like a knife. Jean-Luc really loved Q. It was undeniable.  
Q traced kisses down Picard’s neck, brushing his skin with his fingertips while singing softly. Then he turned around and stepped away, put his hands on Jean-Luc’s shoulders and burst into song.  
  “Anywhere you go, let me go too, Jean-Luc. That’s all I ask of you.”  
Picard put his hand on Q’s cheek, then pulled the mask off quickly.  
  “HE IS A MURDERER! HE KILLED A BARON AND TWO OTHERS TEN YEARS AGO!” Beverly shouted from the box after a dramatic silence.  
The audience started muttering hysterically.  
  “Murderer?”  
  “Oh my GOD, HE killed my husband!”  
  “How come has he run free for this many years?”  
  “Good heavens, a murderer in the Opera!”  
  “Murderer of the opera?”

  
The police officers were approaching.  
Q stared into Picard’s eyes.  
  “I am terribly sorry, Q.”  
Q turned his head to look at the chandelier, then at the ropes around him. Before Picard could realize what was happening, Q had grabbed his waist with one arm and cut the rope next to him with a dagger he drew from his jacket. The chandelier started swinging as the main rope was loose, and Q kicked a switch on the stage. A hatch opened under him and Picard, and they fell through. They also fell through the bonfire, which was a large hole in the stage with flame props on the edges. They disappeared from the view.  
The chain that held the chandelier was let loose by the cut rope, and it fell across the hall and onto the edge of the stage, setting fire to everything around it. The audience stumbled up and ran away screaming.  
  “Good Heavens! We’re doomed if we don’t get outta here, Data!” Geordi yelled. they ran away from their box as fast as their feet could fly.  
Beverly swung herself down from her box with a curtain rope.  
The whole building caught fire rapidly. The heat broke windows and the rooms were full of smoke.  
Beverly saw Troi.  
  “Ma’am Troi! Where is Q taking him?”  
  “Follow me!”  
Wesley ran after them.  
  “I’ll come with you!”  
  “No, Wes, you won’t!” Beverly and Troi said in unison.  
  “I will!” he said defiantly but was left behind. A group of actors came after him and tore him along to get out of the building as soon as possible.

 


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q takes Picard to the catacombs again.

Q pulled Jean-Luc by the arm as he rushed down the dark stone corridors.  
  “Q! Why are you doing this?”  
  “Why did you do that to ME?”

People were chasing after them.  
  
Q dragged the wriggling Picard to the catacombs and rowed him to the shore, then pulled off the boat and shook him by the shoulders.  
  “I was hated by everyone, they thought I was crazy as I babbled about the Continuum and performed my tricks, no compassion! Jean-Luc… Why? Why?!”  
  
Troi led Beverly down the stairs.  
  “Needless to say, Ms, he’s infuriated by this betrayal. And I won’t come any further.”  
  “Thank you.”  
Troi left and Beverly was alone in the dark sewers. She continued trotting down the stairs, when the floor disappeared from under her feet and she fell several feet down into a water tank. It wasn’t very deep, and she reached the surface soon. Clattering and creaking made her glance up. She had fallen into a trap! A large metal grid had begun to come toward her from above. She would drown quickly if she didn’t find a way to get out. She inhaled on the surface and dove. There was a wheel near the bottom of the tank. She tried turning it, but it was rusty and stuck. The grid came closer and closer. She tried to turn the wheel harder and harder… and finally it turned. The grid started going back up. She surfaced and climbed into the corridor that led out of the trap.  
  
Meanwhile, Q was fiddling with Picard’s ring thoughtfully.  
  “Do you really think it’s necessary to plunge into your darkest thoughts like this?” Picard argued, stomping toward him.  
  “Am I a victim of your lust of flesh as well?”  
  “The same fate which made me a hated man has also denied me love!” Q snapped back.  
Picard turned away as Q tried to touch him.  
  “I was kicked away from my home, the Q Continuum, because they said I like humans too much and thus made me one!”  
Hearing this made Picard curious. He turned back to see Q. “What did you say?”  
  “I used to be an immortal, omnipotent being. A Q. I lived everywhere, and I could do anything, anywhere, at any time. And then I got too fascinated with humans. My peers got pissed and kicked me out.” Q puffed in anger. “And I’ve spent over ten cursed years in here! I am miserable, I have not felt love, I have only felt loneliness, sorrow, and bitterness! I hate being a human!”  
  “Isn’t there any way to regain your powers?”  
Q snorted, rolled his eyes and spread his arms.  
  “They told me to do a selfless thing-”  
Q stopped mid-sentence as he saw someone behind the grid gate that separated his part of the catacombs from the sewers.  
  “My, my. I think we have a guest.”  
Beverly dragged her wet feet.  
  “Beverly! Don’t!” Picard shouted.  
  “What a pleasant surprise, don’t you think, mon chéri?” Q crooned and pulled Jean-Luc closer.  
  “Stop this nonsense, Q!”  
  “The fun is yet to begin, Jean-Luc.”  
  “Free him! I’ll do anything, just free him!” Beverly shouted, dragging the crossed beams of the gate.  
  “Listen to yourself, Crusher. You sound so pathetic.”  
  “I love him, doesn’t it matter anything to you?”

  
Q turned away from her, then turned back in rage.  
  “I didn’t matter to the ones who made me this!”  
Beverly shook her head.  
  “Jean-Luc, Jean-Luc. Please, Q.”  
Q sneered coldly and leapt to a switch, then pulled it.  
  “Be my guest, then.”  
The gate rose. Q waded into the knee-deep water.  
  “Did you think I would harm him in some way? Why would I make him pay for your sins?”  
The gate went back down again. Q pulled a length of rope from the water and dashed against Beverly, pushing her against the gate.  
  “Where is your army now? Nothing can save you now except for Jean-Luc!” he screamed as he tied Beverly to the gate.  
  “Save her, Picard, and stay here with me, or go free yourself and let her die! The choice is yours!”  
Q dashed to Picard.  
  “Enough with your bloody games, Q!” Picard shouted. “Let her go!”  
  “I won’t be happy without you, Jean-Luc!” Beverly pleaded.  
  “So”, Q roared as he pulled his knife from a drawer and waded back to Beverly, “if you really love her…”  
  “He’ll win anyway, Jean-Luc. This will not help anyone.”  
Q held the dagger on Beverly’s throat.  
  “Q. Do you really want this? Let us go. Let us go and you will get your immortality back”, Picard said.  
Q’s expression changed. The tension relieved.  
  “I-”  
  “Yes, Q. You would be free. You have let the human emotions blind you. Now… let us go.”  
Picard waded closer to Q and pulled him against himself.  
  “And besides”, he whispered into his ear, “you will have the power to make me immortal after I have lived with her. Then we can live together.”  
  “Yes”, Q whispered back. Was that a tear in his eye?  
Picard pressed his lips against Q’s. Q kissed him back hungrily, then let go suddenly. He showed the knife to Picard.  
There was a distant echo of the noise a group of humans made. The mob was here, determined to kill Q.  
  “Free her. Free her, Jean-Luc. Go, go, I’ll be fine.”  
Q waded to the shore and disappeared from view.  
Picard cut Beverly’s ropes and hugged her in relief.

  
Q sat in the chamber, looking at a Persian monkey statue. And the next thing he saw was another Q who poked his head through the wall. This Q was blond and shorter than the other one.  
  “Well well well, what was that?” he said.  
  “I… guess it was a selfless act.”  
  “Do you know what that means?”  
  “Probably a bouquet and a kiss? Nah. Come on. Give me my powers.”  
  “Fine.” Then the other Q was gone.  
Q clicked his fingers and thought of going home. And so, the mob only found a picturesque scene with no Q to inhabit it. The monkey told them nothing.  
**  
 _The lady arrived at the cemetery and was guided to the right grave. She came here every year to honor the memory of her beloved, late husband Jean-Luc who had died early because of an illness. She left the monkey statue in front of the gravestone._

  
But what she didn’t know was that Q had done like Jean-Luc suggested. They were together now, immortal and omnipotent, twined around each other, travelling around the galaxy like they wished to, and enjoyed every timeless moment back then, now, and in the future.  
  
THE END


End file.
